


Urchin

by MotherMckinney21



Category: Maleficent (Disney Movies)
Genre: Children, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Series of One Shots, Tags will be updated as I go along, check the summary, it explains this story better trust me!, this IS NOT an OC falls in love with Borra story, this may have a storyline in the future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27942839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherMckinney21/pseuds/MotherMckinney21
Summary: Borra found himself craving his own company more often than not. Of course, he spoke to the other fae upon the daily. But even then most wished to spend their time conversing with the humans, most on both sides seemingly willing to make an effort to strengthen both Auroras and Phillips's vision of peace and harmony between the two kingdoms.Yet he didn't feel the need or desire to do the same.A story where Borras crosses paths with a peasant child from the borders of Ulstead who from the start takes a keen interest in Borra and wishes for him to be his friend. Of course, Borra wants no such ties, especially not with a human of all beings despite the ongoing reign of peace. Unfortunately for him, fate has other plans when he's not given much of a choice but to converse with this unstoppable force of a pint-sized chatterbox.But could this turn of events put an end to his hatred towards humans once and for all?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Urchin

**Author's Note:**

> Hey peeps! 
> 
> So here is my first story for this fandom, this will be a series of one-shots featuring Borra and my OC. Just to clarify it's not the romantic kind as that wouldn't be right seeing as it's a child OC and all... Anyway, I hope people enjoy the first nugget of many chapters I have planned for this story. 
> 
> This story coincides with another story I have in the making called Scathed survivors which focuses on Borra's backstory and how he becomes the bloodthirsty warmonger we see in the movie. But for now I hope this is good enough for the time being!

Streams of sunlight fell through the thick wall of trees, filling up every space between the leaves with warm sugary light. The rays tumbled down strands of grass which gleamed with remains of the morning dew. Casting its glow to surround the moors in its portrait worthy glory, various flowers and creatures feeding off its tranquility. The sky having ripened from a fresh orange color into a pale blue, wisps of white clouds stood unmoving. They were so thin, they appeared to be stray brush marks on a blue canvas.

In that broad daylight was a sense of serenity. A feeling Borra had yet to get accustomed to.

It had been many months since the wedding war and after various talks with Aurora Queen of the moors and Prince Phillip amongst the other fae leaders, all seemed to be well.

However, it didn't always prevent the niggling feeling that roared in the pit of his stomach, talking him into the notion that a sickening twist of fate was lurking just around the corner, despite the solemn promise that neither kingdom would be subjected to the horrors of war ever again. But then who could blame him after having to lead a life consumed by torture, hatred, death, and despair?

Which was why Borra found himself craving his own company more often than not. Of course, he spoke to the other fae upon the daily. But even then most wished to spend their time conversing with the humans, most on both sides seemingly willing to make an effort to strengthen both Auroras and Phillips's vision of peace and harmony between the two kingdoms.

Yet he didn't feel the need or desire to do the same.

Inhaling a deep breath of the crisp fresh air to clear his head, he failed to notice a small scuffling noise coming from behind the tree Borra was leaned against.

"Hello!" Came a shrill of excitement from behind him. Stumbling to his feet Borra stops in his tracks to glare at what dared to disturb him, stunned to find a scraggly, squalid creature standing before him. The being responsible for such a noise barely coming up to his chest, the all too familiar stench of human making him recoil in disgust.

Once the initial shock wears off, the desert fae seizes his opportunity to get a closer look at the boy. Messy brown hair standing up on end being the first feature to lay eyes upon, followed by bright brown eyes and a wide grin, eager to converse with him. The clothes on his back are tattered, worn, and caked in dirt. Although they covered every inch of his being, they did nothing to conceal his thin, malnourished frame due to the poor living conditions back in the villages of Ulstead.

"There's no need to be afraid!" Says the sickly looking creature now having stepped a couple of inches closer towards him. "I won't hurt you," he adds seconds later as if to somehow reassure him against a lifetime of terror and torture by the hands of these beings.

A low rumbling sound coming from within the depths of his throat is Borra's only offering of a response.

"This place is amazing!" The boy continues, his voice laced with enthusiasm grating at Borra's nerves. Moments later he's tracing the human beings every step, tentatively watching him looking up at the clouds then around the moors, happily embracing his surroundings. "You're so lucky to live here!"

Another growl accompanied by the deepening of his scowl only plaques the child's curiosity more.

"You know, my father says that if you scowl too much and the wind changes your face will stay like that."

"What?" Borra spits out, eyeing up the boy as if he were a threat.

"He tells me so every time I'm in a bad mood," comes the unwanted explanation, once again completely oblivious to the fae's increasing irritation.

"You don't say much," the boy observed gently, his never-ending smile puzzling the fae. His gaze is then cast above him, the sudden fascination with his head unsettling the desert clan leader.

"I like your horns!" He blurts out, unknowingly to the boy who looks upon them with awe only adds to the desert fae's fury.

"You're not having them!" Borra snaps, eyes cold and glowering. At this point he expects the boy to be taking multiple steps away from him in utter terror before breaking into a frenzied run for his life, instead, he merely stands there without a shred of fear, almost looking amused by the abrupt outburst.

"I don't wish to have them, besides, they wouldn't suit me."

"Good," he grumbles as he makes a hasty retreat to the other side of the tree. The rustling sounds that immediately follow him indicating the rather one-sided conversation is not yet over.

"So, what are all those marks on you? Do they mean anything?"

Spinning to face the nonwinged intruder it takes a lot of effort to stifle the urge to tear his throat out, a grimace filling the desert fae's expression at the sudden realization at just how close they were standing to one another.

"Do they hurt?" He asks, a hand seconds away from reaching out to trace one of many the scars decorating Borra's forearm.

"No," the fae responds sharply, fiercely shielding himself with his wings. For a moment the boy almost looks apologetic, however, he soon finds his gaze directed down at his feet, a genuine mixture of concern and wonder.

"Do you not wear any shoes?" Comes the unwanted statement, not once does the boy take his eyes of Borra's ever-growing murderous hazel ones. Meanwhile, the fae remains torn between staring in utter bewilderment at the creature's incredible stupidity and lack of personal boundaries or removing its tiny tongue with his bare hands. The notion of the latter to getting this vile creature far away from him driving his attention away from the child's babbling.

"I could always make you some if you like," the boy offers, his profound excitement snapping the desert clan leader out from his trail of thought. The genuine desire to help him present in the vile creature's somewhat cheerful demeanor causes him to involuntarily shudder.

"You should not be here," Borra growls out, although it's strangely nowhere near as threatening as he would have liked.

An exaggerated sigh fills the atmosphere, the few seconds of silence that follows Borra is eternally grateful for. But like all good things, they must come to an end.

"I don't understand why people say that," says the boy with a hint of sadness. "My father says we are at peace now, that we are all united as one and we should all be friends with one another yet nobody allows me to do so."

Borra hums then for a moment a sad smile overtakes him, clearly lost in his own thoughts. It wasn't until seconds later when the child began to once again chatter away that he was brought back to the present.

"I don't even know your name! Mine's Damien, what's yours?"

The desert fae takes a moment to tilt his head at the sudden questioning of his name, contemplating whether or not to tell the boy who's now gone silent, waiting patiently for an answer.

"Borra," the desert fae eventually drawls out.

The boy smiles once again. Before the fae is able to comment on the boy's odd habit a chorus of soft footsteps interrupts them.

"There you are, Damien!" Says the exasperated lady as she steadily approaches him, halting in her tracks when noticing the dark fae's presence. "I have been searching throughout the entire town for you!"

"Sorry auntie," Damien replies, ducking his head down a little to convey his apologies.

At this point, Borra is fully aware that the woman's gaze is no longer directed at Damien but at him. Eyes burning with hatred contending with the fae's enticing death glare. The woman unlike Damien is more neatly presented. Hair tied up underneath her bonnet without as much as a strand poking downwards, her clothes in a similar manner to Damien's though with considerably fewer rips and dirt. Their demeanors couldn't have been any more different. While Damien's was without a doubt joyful and keen to see the world in all its glory, his aunt was taught and rigid. However, the fae couldn't argue that he was much different even at the best of times.

"Auntie, this is my new friend Borra!" Ends up being the distraction to end the intense staring competition between the two adults. Although the tension surrounding the pair remains thick enough to cut with a knife.

"His kind are no friends to us, come now, come away from that winged beast at once!"

Borra allows a growl to escape him, the severity of it causing the elder of the two humans to take a cautious step back.

"But I am unharmed auntie," Damien shows off his arms in an attempt to defend the desert clan leader.

The said aunt huffs a heavy sigh. "This time perhaps, that doesn't mean it will always turn out that way. You must not allow curiosity to get the better of you dear boy."

"Yes auntie," is all the boy has left to say, with that his hand is abruptly snatched into hers, practically dragging Damien away from the scene as if he were in danger of being exposed to a life-threatening new disease.

"Goodbye for now!" Are Damien's last words as he turns back towards Borra one last time, that fond smile of his still as fresh as when they had met twenty or so odd minutes ago, before promptly being whisked from out of his sight.

Once the two are no longer within Borra's field of vision, the fae makes his way to take off into the sky once more. Swooping up into the air Borra can see Damien and his aunt walking back to their rundown village, letting out a small growl he proceeds to soar through the clouds.

God forbid should he ever have to cross paths with that little urchin again.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is fuel for more chapters, not that I'm begging... :D


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